


It Was Always True

by synonym4life



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, M/M, Not A Fix-It, POV Bucky Barnes, POV First Person, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 05:40:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18732718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/synonym4life/pseuds/synonym4life
Summary: On the 9th day after Endgame, the sad fangirl wrote a sad fic: Bucky's angsty thoughts when Steve leaves to return back the stones.How could I have ever fucking doubted it was true.If it weren’t would it hurt this much? Would my soul be drowning in a chasm of pain? Would my heart be hammering itself into shards of glass? No. Only love can hurt like this.It was always true.





	It Was Always True

You know, for the longest time, I wasn’t even sure it was true. For the longest time, I told myself knowing every quirk of your best friend’s lips was normal, that knowing every wrinkle around your eyes, every wink, every smile, every shrug was normal. And maybe it was. Maybe it is. 

What wasn’t normal was how I appreciated it. How, when you rolled your eyes at one of my stupid jokes, I wanted to kiss you. How one time I did. How you let me. Not because you particularly wanted to kiss me, I imagine. Must have been I was just persistent enough to convince you. 

“Wanna know what it’s like?” I asked. A throwaway comment, leisurely, casually pronounced. 

I’d been planning it for weeks.

“You know I wanna know what it’s like, Buck,” you said, probably tired of my endless exploits with the Brooklyn dames I always insisted on telling you about. You can’t blame me for that. It made you blush. You’ve always looked so beautiful all flustered.

“I could show you,” I said, the smallest feeling of dread prickling in my stomach. It intensified when your eyes flew to mine, shocked, big, your eyebrows up under your fringe. 

“You’re not a dame, Buck,” you told me slowly, looking close at my face, searching. I’ve always been a good actor, so I don’t think you noticed, but I had to fight so hard not to squirm. 

“‘S no difference, is it? Everyone’s got lips.” 

I lied. It would have been different for you, I had some stubble going on at the time already. You didn’t. Face still smooth as a dame’s. Wouldn’t have minded if you’d had a beard though either. Don’t think these things ever mattered where you were concerned. “I’ll pout my lips some more for you. Look, do I not look like a gorgeous lady?” 

You rolled your eyes, smiling.

So I kissed you. Just like that. Think I missed the mark a bit and hit the corner of your mouth first. You have to forgive me, I was nervous. Besides I did always love that corner so much. Always loved how when you fought down a grin it was that corner of your lips that betrayed you. Maybe I missed your mouth on purpose, who knows. 

It’s blurry, that memory. All the memories from before are. Brooklyn, Ma, my sisters. I can’t even recall their faces, did I ever tell you that? But I remember yours. When you were still small, your face much thinner, ending in a pointy rebellious chin. The freckles on your cucumber nose. You hated them, wanted them gone. And they are gone now. Disappeared as soon as you got bigger. Well, I still know every single one of them. I could run my fingers across your face, now still, tracing the aimless zig-zag line they made. 

How could I have ever fucking doubted it was true. 

If it weren’t would it hurt this much? Would my soul be drowning in a chasm of pain? Would my heart be hammering itself into shards of glass?

No. Only love can hurt like this.

It was always true. 

You’re leaving now. For a long, long time. You’ll be back in five seconds, yes. But for you a lifetime will have passed. You think it won’t for me, but I already feel like I’ve aged a hundred years just seeing you step on that podium. You’ll come back, old and close to death. But here I am, dying right before your eyes and you don’t even notice. 

Should I have told you? Would it have made a difference? They say love wins every time, but I never wanted love to be a fight. I don’t think love wins anything. I think love just is. Sometimes it warms you, it caresses you, it takes you high, like a drug, and sometimes it hurts. 

I’ve been hurting for so long, Steve. God, I’ve been hurting for so, so fucking long. 

And I wasn’t even sure. I wasn’t even sure it was true. But I know now. Now that Bruce is counting down the seconds and with every thump my heart shreds itself to pieces with missing you.

Only love can make your chest collapse, deflate completely, suffocating you with pain, until you’re unable to take another breath. Only love can make your eyes sting hot and cold at once. Sting as if whipped by a freezing wind in a flaming room.

I hope you never know how it feels, Steve. I hope you never have the chance to find out. 

But I tell you, if I’ve ever thought it wasn’t true, there’s not a shred of doubt in my mind anymore. I know ‘cause only love can hurt like this. 

**Author's Note:**

> I might make this be a prequel of a Fix-It fic that I've had an idea for, but for now this remains Bucky's sad story. Please cry with me to share the pain. We're in this together.


End file.
